Morina and I went to our own bedrooms quietly that night. I waited to see if she’d invited me to hers but she didn’t.
Rightfully so, too. I was the man that had locked her in a cage and marked her.
Rising before the sun, I got dressed quickly and left to start my day. I needed to fly to Texas and meet with an oil refinery that wanted to push more oil our way. We could handle it for the time being but I was set to propose funding from the government soon.
“You tell Morina yet?” Cade asked over the phone.
“Tell her what?” I asked as I stared out the window on my flight to the meeting. My mind wasn’t focused on business. Instead, it was thinking of a girl with hurt blue eyes that handed me a part of her heart the night before. I think, at this point, she had all of mine even if she didn’t know it.
“That you’re looking to partner with the refinery until you get the green light from the government.”
“Why would I tell her that? She doesn’t care about all this. She wants what’s best for the town and is happy to hand the decision making over to me.”
“If you told her about the clean energy push, I just thought you would tell her about this too.”
I straightened my cufflinks and brushed off his assessment of the situation. “I’m not starting an argument with her for no reason.” Our relationship was too fragile at this point to do anything of the sort. “The refinery’s proposal won’t last long. It’s not something that will even be brought up until she’s gone and then I’ll be nixing the idea as we move forward with reconstructing the oil terminals.”
“I’m just saying these guys are who Dad partnered with in the past. We need to walk a fine line with everyone and them.”
“Agreed.” My brother knew his shit and he was just looking out. Still, his advice had me coiling up in defense as I got to the meeting.
Quinton sat at the round table along with Ronald and a few others. The head of the refinery, Mr. Crow, shook my, his sweaty in mine. A gold ring on his finger glinted. We all wore them. Irish, Italian, Armenian, Russian, and more. They had different markings but they meant the same thing.
Family. Filth. And money. The families came to this table because the money was at it.
Even the president–if he could have called in, he would have.
“I’m wondering if we start this now or wait until Bastian is a permanent shareholder of Tropical Oil.” Mr. Crow chuckled.
Ronald sneered. “That’s not set in stone. I have it on good authority that there’s a prenup involved and she doesn’t have to sell to you at all.”
“Ronald, don’t pout.” I cracked my knuckles. “Losing never suited you, but I intend to keep our business thriving even if it isn’t the way you want it to be.”
“We’ll see if I don’t outbid you with her first.” He hmphed but sat down in one of the plush leather chairs around the large wooden conference table.
John, another shareholder of the refinery, waved us to our seats. “Now, now. This shouldn’t take long. Let’s discuss other matters and make sure our alliances are in order. I’ve had a few of my guys mining digital currency and I want to make sure we cover that too.”
A few of them grumbled but it led to a heated debate about who was monopolizing what and if they were scamming the others.
Ruthless sharks sat at this table. We were the heads of our families and we wanted to make sure they had enough food to eat.
One man raised his voice about how the Armanellis must’ve been doing something I wasn’t sharing with regard to mining. We’d pulled in much more than most of them.
I shrugged. “There isn’t a trick to it other than hiring the best of the best. Cade grew up doing this.”
“You can’t be the best and have the best of everything, Bastian,” Mr. Crow said. He sat there in a checkered suit and wire glasses, eyes narrowed at me. He was the one at the table we cared about. He owned the refinery I’d have to break ties with at some point.
“I’m just here to work with everyone, Mr. Crow. That includes you.”
“Ah, so you’ve come to agree to more oil at the ports then? I can’t have Tropical Oil under performing.”
The room went quiet. Most knew my stance on this business and they knew I didn’t want any more to do with it than necessary. “What does that do for me?”
He leaned forward and twisted his mustache like there was really something to consider. “Well, I can pay you more.”
“I don’t need money, Mr. Crow.”
“Oh, now, everyone needs more money.” He scoffed and then straightened his bow tie. “What more do you want? The terminals don’t mean much to you. Let us have our fun. Go back up north where it’s cold. We know how to handle our gulf.”
“Well, you see”–I leaned back in the leather chair and took them all in–“I have a wife there now. She loves the ocean and she loves that company. I’m invested.”
Around the table, grumbling ensued.
“Are you importing anything else?” I didn’t break eye contact. I held his with a grip so strong he wouldn’t look away either. If he did, I’d have my answer.
“If you want part of imports–”
I cut him off. “I want any illegal imports to stop.”
“They’re essential to my–”
I stood. “They stop or I walk right now.” This was where I wouldn’t bend. Every single person in the room knew that.
“Fine.” Mr. Crow straightened, jumping at his chance. “You increase our limits on the terminals receiving the oil, and I’ll stop the imports.”
His hand stuck out over the table. I stared at it. Sometimes a handshake carried a lot of weight. Here, it would carry millions. I’d have to hold off on clean energy for months and I didn’t even have the shares to do that yet.
And yet, the imports had to stop. The last piece of my father’s legacy had to be torn apart.
We’d have a clean family business, one my brother and my mother always wanted.
“Done.” I shook his hand.
I’d have to tell Morina later. She’d understand.
